It's Only Natural
by BasiaM82
Summary: Miles hates when Phoenix breaks wind in bed. (Rated for bathroom humor) Written for PWKM: Bad habits. Putting the toilet paper with the sheet down the back instead of the front. Picking at teeth. Not scrubbing the pans properly. Collecting tea mugs on a desk instead of washing them. Farting in bed. Tell me how couples negotiate their bad habits


Fill for PWKM prompt:

Bad habits.

Putting the toilet paper with the sheet down the back instead of the front. Picking at teeth. Not scrubbing the pans properly. Collecting tea mugs on a desk instead of washing them. Farting in bed.

Tell me how couples negotiate their bad habits

What can I say? I have a weakness for fart humor. This was written quickly and unedited and could definitely use some reworking. Hope you enjoy it. (Additional note at the end)

It had been a long day and, after nearly going cross-eyed reading and filing various documents and case files, Miles Edgeworth wanted nothing more than to close his eyes and forget about the pile of papers on his desk that still required his attention. After changing into his pajamas, he climbed into bed, set his glasses on the night stand, and shut off the bedside lamp before pulling the covers up and lying down.

Next to him, Phoenix lay on his side, facing away from Miles. He was not yet asleep, but clearly starting to doze. Miles rolled over and, with one hand around Phoenix's waist, snuggled up against his back. Phoenix gave a contented sigh and mumbled something that sounded like _I love you_ as he placed his own hand over Miles's. Exhausted as he was, it didn't take long before Miles was dozing, just like his lover and would maintain that that is why his brain didn't connect the warning signs before it was too late.

There was the slightest, momentary tension in Phoenix's abdomen and the briefest interruption in his breathing rhythm. The release of this tension was accompanied by the feeling of warmth and a sound that could only be one thing. Eyes snapping open, Miles pushed himself off of Phoenix's back, careful to keep the blankets down lest the result of the aforementioned occurrences escape near his face.

"Really? Must you do that in bed?" he asked in a disgusted tone.

Phoenix had rolled onto his back to look at his bedmate, breaking the seal of the blankets in the process, causing Miles to scrunch his face up in an irritated expression as he fanned his hand in front of his face. "Do what?" Phoenix asked with mock innocence.

"You know exactly what," Miles fixed Phoenix with a glare.

"Yeah, I just wanted to see if I could get you to say it," he grinned as he folded his hands behind his head. "I don't know what you're all worked up about; it's a normal bodily function."

"I realize that," Miles responded, "but some of these functions are less pleasant than others."

"Oh, I don't know about that…" Phoenix began before Miles cut him off.

"I mean to others around us. Honestly, can't you take care of this kind of thing before you come to bed?"

Phoenix shrugged, "What can I say? I was getting relaxed and it slipped out. I don't have a gauge anywhere on myself to know when the pipes have cleared, so to speak, and holding it would just make me too uncomfortable to fall asleep. Besides, it's not like you don't do it too."

Miles looked positively scandalized at the mention of it. "I… I most certainly do not!" he stuttered out.

"Of course you do, just because you're asleep and don't remember it doesn't mean that it doesn't happen."

"Well, I can hardly be blamed for something that happens unconsciously, you on the other hand, knew full well what was coming and didn't even see fit to warn me."

Phoenix looked like he did in court when he had a witness backed into a corner. "So you're telling me, that you never consciously pass gas."

Miles stayed quiet and just glared.

"Because, if that's the case, maybe you should get checked out. After all, not only is it normal, but it is a sign of a healthy digestive system. If you're unable to do it, then there could be a blockage or something in your intestines."

"I assure you," Miles ground out, "that there is nothing wrong with my intestines."

"Ah, so then you admit that you do knowingly release flatulence throughout the day."

"That's not the point…"

"As a matter of fact," Phoenix continued, ignoring Miles' attempt at interjecting, "I'm willing to bet that you don't always do it in private either." He rolled to his side and supported his head with one hand. "I know you spend a lot of time by yourself in that office of yours, but there are days where you're all over the building in meetings and hardly see the inside of your office all day. And there's no way that you can run to the bathroom every time the urge hits, so that only means one thing…"

Miles rolled his eyes and crossed his arms over his chest, "And what would that be?"

"It means that you, Miles Edgeworth, crop dust all over the prosecutor's office."

"This conversation is ridiculous and is a complete waste of time. I have too much to do tomorrow to lose precious sleep listening to your juvenile arguments," he said in his cool, condescending manner.

Phoenix's grin didn't falter, "You're the one making a big deal of this. We would both be asleep by now if you hadn't reacted like a 13-year-old."

Without a response, Miles gracefully laid down with his back to Phoenix and pulled the covers up to his chin.

"Oh, come on, don't be like that," Phoenix said as he slid closer to Miles and snuggled up to his back. Miles's stiffness melted a little as he felt an arm settle on his shoulder and soon enough, both of them drifted off to sleep.

As with every morning, Miles's internal clock began to slowly peel back the layers of sleep before his alarm sounded. He was on his back with Phoenix still wrapped around him, but he was also beginning to show signs of waking soon. Phoenix moved his head off of his shoulder and gave Miles a sleepy kiss and mumbled, "I love you," in his ear. "Remember that later," he appended, but by the time it registered in Miles's brain, it was too late. Phoenix pounced and pulled the blanket over Miles's head while simultaneously holding him down. The unmistakable sound caused Miles to struggle harder, but it was no use as a foul odor assaulted his senses. Suddenly, all weight was lifted off of him and he threw the covers off in time to see Phoenix sprint to the ensuite bathroom and lock the door.

A little on the immature side, I know. Was the dutch oven at the end too much? The idea grabbed hold and refused to let me think of alternate endings. Comments are welcome and appreciated.


End file.
